It Was all Haunting
by justsimplymeagain
Summary: That it was all haunting, everything from memories to dreams and realities to wishful thinking. Everything he's ever known or has.


**Pairing:** Not Yet Established Sabretooth/Wolverine  
><strong>AN:** Not a Halloween based fic despite the title... lol.

Wolverine didn't linger around the X-Mansion when he was in one of these moods. Times like this when his moods shift from one thing to another radically and without much warning, he could be docile and spaced one second and the next he could be snarling in a corner ready to lash out at anything that moved quicker then a rattler could bite. Times like this when he could close his eyes and see those things he didn't want to see anymore, green liquid and faceless silhouettes and pain. When he could close his eyes and see nothing but torment and blood.

Times when he was haunted by what he did, what happened to him and what he could do.

Times that were hard enough on him it could leave him panting out on the floor curled into himself for his only source of comfort against the storm. The X-Men when they were good, when they were whole actually helped him with these times. He didn't have them so badly or so frequently then. Things were good, they were better. He was better.

But this wasn't those times, this was here and now.

The X-Force was now an experienced team, going on three years now. No one who gone into it was the same now, even Laura. He tried so hard to protect that girl, keep her from being what she used to be. But Summers didn't care too much about things like that anymore. And so he let her stay in the X-Force and kill in the X-Force and be a weapon in the X-Force.

Just like Wolverine.

The girl was going to be haunted by what she has to do for the so called good guys for many years to come; even Daken who was not really a good guy so to speak pointed that out to her and to Wolverine. Shockingly enough for a split second the kid almost seemed like he cared. For a second and it was for Laura not his own father that he cared for, for that one second. That was one of the rare happy moments Wolverine could remember with his boy. Aside from that, the boy haunted Wolverine with his own failure to protect her. Itsu. The mother of his only son, a woman he loved perhaps even more then Kayla and Mikoto and even Melita. He didn't dare talk about her to Daken though, the kid snaps when anyone speaks of her.

Wolverine didn't blame the boy though. How could he?

There was just too much haunting Wolverine. Too much damage for him to not be haunted. Curling tighter Wolverine snarled as he sat in a tight ball in a corner of his rundown apartment. The sound of hopeless children sobbing and crying, people fighting down the street and the odd gunshot ringing out on the air. Six mutants lived in this apartment building, all beaten down and hopeless. All of them choosing not to go to Utopia or wherever else that was broadcasted to be mutie-friendly. Wolverine despite himself snorted in pessimistic amusement.

The sound of a shower rattling the pipes caught his attention, but only briefly. He could ignore that as easily as he could ignore the sounds of rats in the walls and mice in his cupboards.

His phone rang out and Wolverine had to force himself to get up and walk over to it. It took more energy then he thought it would have. But he did and he answered it with a noncommittal grunt. It was of course Summers, demanding where he was. Wolverine didn't exactly say where he was going or what he was going to be doing. He just took off from the X-Force headquarters.

Without any hesitation or guilt over it, he hung up and tore the cord from the wall. No one was going to be phoning here for a while now. If One-Eye has a problem with that then he could simply go jump off a bridge. Wolverine didn't care at the moment; he knew what it was about. Laura not showing up, Wolverine made sure the girl wouldn't. And for once, he and miss whitey saw eye to eye on that. It turns out Emma was finally starting to turn around and be a woman rather then a simply uppity white-wearing bitch. Though she still had her moments where Wolverine wanted to strangle her for her attitude and acting like her shit don't stink.

He vaguely trusted she could get a reign on that man she seduced into marriage after Jeannie died again.

He wasn't entirely sure whether or not he was fond of how quick he got into bed with the white queen herself, it still left a bad taste in his mouth. But he blamed it on Summers and not Emma on this one. Girl just didn't know how to cool it. Not that Wolverine could talk there but still.

After all he was someone who went from woman to woman in a single beat despite the pain it causes him when one of his lovers would die on him, it didn't stop him from moving on. He silently hoped that the same thing won't happen to Melita, the girl didn't deserve that. None of his past lovers did. Wolverine's lip curled in self-directed hatred at it as he curled his fingers angrily against the cold dirty countertop.

Sirens screamed out as emergency vehicles sped by, no doubt going to whatever situation Summers would have wanted him to go to. Wolverine didn't budge. Summers didn't actually understand now the mood Wolverine was in, the state of mind and the day it was. All of which was haunting him like there was no tomorrow. It was always worse on this day.

The very anniversary of the day he used his blade to sever Sabretooth's head and his arm.

Wolverine snarled angrily, the death of his enemy shouldn't be bothering him so much and so badly. He's killed so many of his enemies and he's never lost any of his little sleep over them. But he did with Sabretooth. The man even tormented him in his grave. It wasn't fair. Wolverine's snarl turned to an angered growl that caused rats and mice to scurry in instinctive fright.

But then again, none of his other enemies haunted him and tormented him and stuck with him throughout all of these years like Sabretooth did. Funny how his enemy was more faithful to him then his own friends and his own family was. Hysterical. Wolverine took a few steps away from the counter and the broken phone and was about to make his way back to his corner in the apartment where he was curled up previously when something hard hit him in the side and even before he could react to it or acknowledge the pain it quite literally exploded.

Sending him into whatever direction the force of that blast decided to put him and mercifully knocking the consciousness right out of him as sweet darkness took over.

~~Hour and Thirty Minutes Later~~

By the time Wolverine managed to drag himself to consciousness he couldn't figure out where he was or how long it was since he lost consciousness in the first place. All he could guess was that he wasn't where he should be or where he would have landed due to the fact that he was lying flat on his back. Despite the singing pain in every inch of him he knew that was a fact.

He opened his eyes, or at least one eye due to the other not opening or not being there in the first place. It was dark, wherever he was. Still night Wolverine figured. He was in a room though, on the floor that was welcomingly cold. Not being able to smell much past his own flesh he didn't bother sniffing, instead he listened and scanned the room.

Silence, which means he was outside of the city somewhere. It was high time he got up and figured things out first hand now rather then lying around waiting for his healing factor to put him back together. Unfortunately that was easier said then done, it hurt to move and he quickly realized that whatever clothing he had on was either blown from him in the explosion or torn out of wounds he's had and has. Wonderful.

Cursing under his breath he sat there for a moment, waiting for the room to stop spinning until he made a move to get up though the door opening and him being temporarily blinded by the hallway light stalled him enough for him to be shoved back by a foot so he was flat on his back again. Growling angrily he made a move to get up faster and angrier this time only to have his movements stopped by someone literally sitting on his upper legs and clawed hands holding his arms against his chest keeping the rest of him down.

Who else did he know had clawed hands? No fur and too barbaric to be Hank, so he was out of the picture. Wild Child was out of the picture but Wolverine didn't know where the idiot was. And he wasn't actually smart or strong enough to actually be able to hold him down, surprise attacks yes but not actually going this far to being able to restrain him quickly and far too easily for Wolverine's tastes. So then who? And more importantly how did this punk know how and when and where?

His one eye wasn't helping all that much but the hard unforgiving lick from his jaw to the corner of his closed or gone eye gave him a strong hint. Only one sick S.O.B was known for this, only one.

"Sabretooth…" The statement came out as more of a question then what Wolverine would have liked, but there was no taking it back. A chuckle was heard right next to a re-growing ear only confirmed it. How? When? How was this possible! Wolverine snarled out angrily.

"Miss me runt?" A dark purring voice said, Sabretooth. His enemy. Alive. It was almost too much to take, but Wolverine shouldn't be too surprised at this point in his life. He's seen it all, done most of it and had nearly all of it done to him. Wolverine kept snarling and growling loudly as he struggled; ignoring the pain that action caused him.

"Didn' expect to see me, huh runt? No, not after ya took my arm an' my head. Do you want to know how I survived?" Sabretooth taunted down to him, Wolverine growled slightly at that. He did actually want to know how the larger man lived through after a hit from a weapon that negates healing factors. A weapon designed to put him down if he ever snaps and gets out of control.

"No! Now let me go!" Wolverine snapped angrily while struggling and ended up snarling when Sabretooth practically ignored everything he said while taunting him with,

"Not even a hint?" Wolverine growled at him for it.

"Ya better be gettin' off o' me or else yer head 'n yer arm won' be the only things to lose." Wolverine threatened as he glared at Sabretooth with his only good eye, it was well adjusted to see enough of Sabretooth to know it was actually him and not just a twisted nightmare that was ever so taunting. The only response he got from for that was laughter. Sabretooth was laughing at him!

Wolverine's struggling increased when he felt Sabretooth use his whole body to hold Wolverine down and make him stop moving so much. After a good few minutes he stopped moving and simply glared at the man who was now taunting him with an expression that was too smug for his own good.

"Go through with what yer plannin' Sabretooth 'n I promise you ain't livin' past tomorrow." Wolverine warned coldly. Sabretooth's grin only grew as he purred out,

"Promises, promises."

~~Next Day - X-Force Headquarters~~

Wolverine stormed past everyone, including Summers who looked down right pissed. Wolverine didn't care about that at all as he held the shirt down enough to cover his rear and front due to the fact that there was a couple of lady's present. Domino saw enough of him, so she wasn't too much of a concern if she saw anything but it was the two new girls standing with her. Newbie's to the X-Force team, they won't last long. They were too soft and didn't have that killer instinct needed. But Summers let them join anyways, the ass.

Summers of course followed him angrily, but didn't push his luck when the door was slammed on his face and it was hard enough to let everyone know not to push their luck or else they'd be getting a face full of his adamantium reinforced fist.

Wolverine made quick work of the shirt and got dressed in his own cloths before sitting down on his barely used bed. He couldn't exactly get the last expression Sabretooth face. It reminded him of a cat who got into the cream 'don't be mad it says' and there was something oddly human there. Something that was lacking before during Romulus's command.

And the most damning thing of all, Wolverine wasn't as angry as he thought he would be. Especially after what has happened and his own orientation being completely opposite to what just happened. He wasn't as angry as he normally would get in any given situation, there was no red rage or berserker rampage and there was no going feral. It was just as it was.

Deep down he couldn't help but wonder about the chances Sabretooth has for the future, now that Romulus was gone and that something he saw in the older feral's eyes. Was there more hope for him, and thus more hope for Wolverine? And not to mention the question that was going to be on his mind for quite some time was why. Why did Sabretooth blow him up just to get down to unusual business at a later point? What was the point? And why Wolverine?

For now he'll ignore all of that, he'll go on as he always has been. But as for what the future held, he didn't know and quite frankly for once didn't care too much about it either. None of that took away one fact about everything when it came to Wolverine, his enemy, his memories and everything else in between.

That it was all haunting, everything from memories to dreams and realities to wishful thinking. Everything he's ever known or has.


End file.
